


The Inevitable Pull

by Zigzagwanderer



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, Angst with a Happy Ending, Armitage Hux Does Not Need Rescuing, Armitage Hux Likes Rough And Anonymous Sex Once In A While, Eventual Evil Darlings, First Kiss, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Horny Kylo Ren, Kylo Ren Doesn't Judge, Kylux - Freeform, Kylux Summer Fest 2019, Love Is Difficult, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Porn, Protective Kylo Ren, Romantic and Dirty Talk, Tumblr Prompt, slutty hux
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2020-09-19 08:07:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20327839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zigzagwanderer/pseuds/Zigzagwanderer
Summary: For Kylux xoxo Summer Fest 2019- Road Trip Prompt (Lost/Bar/Engine).Ren declares his feelings for Hux. Hux runs. Will Ren be able to accept Hux as he is, without wanting to change him?(Title By Thom Yorke)Thank you if you read/leave a comment or kudos::: I really appreciate it!!!xxxx





	1. Bar

The cantina squatted in the dirt by the highway. 

It was storm season on the jadeite plateau, and the air was full of thorns. 

Ren ground the speeder to a stop, spraying up sand, and turned off the tracker.

Tail-bones, strung up under the overhang, clattered as the wind panted past, and Ren crossed the veranda, drowning in green shadow. 

He should _not_ have come. And yet, of course, he had.

Inside the drinking room, it was dark, and there was a raw, rutting stink to the place. 

“Water,” Ren said to the creature behind the bar.

Blank faces avoided his. A woman dressed in lizard skins spat onto the floor as Ren walked slowly between the tables.

“Hux.” Ren made the word as silent as possible; no more than an exhalation. 

“_Leave_.” Hux snapped up at him, his mouth a hard, red line. “_Now_.”

Ren sat down. 

The smoky make-up, smudged all around Hux’s eyes, sharpened the colour and the rage of them. 

Ren had never seen Hux’s hair loosed before, not once; it was rippled and rucked; a bed for foreign fingers. 

Ren looked steadily at Hux, until Hux looked away. 

Ren waited. 

Hux wore a wrap of sheer material suspended on thin straps, the red of it none too clean. As he reached forward for his cigarettes, it sagged, barely covering his nipples. The chain of his tags dragged in the trickling moisture on his chest. 

“You cannot force me back. I have a legitimate leave of absence,” he said, eventually. Although he crossed his legs in an echo of his familiar manner, his buckled boot betrayed him, kicking restlessly at nothing. 

Ren stared at Hux’s heat-slickened thighs. His well-rubbed knees. 

“I know.” The water was stale as it slid down Ren’s throat. “I looked for you, General. After you ran from me. I was told you had been permitted to leave the Finalizer for a time.”

Hux blew smoke at the ceiling. There were thumb-shaped marks on the pale muscle of both his arms.

“Permitted?” He grated out an amused noise. “I permitted myself.” 

He swallowed all of the oily liquid left in his glass. It sheened his lips. 

“Or should I have begged for my rights from you? My _saviour_, my _protector_…”

“_Enough_.” Ren cracked the clay cup he was holding. 

Hux smiled, coldly. 

Setting the pieces down, Ren reached halfway across the table. 

“Is it so…unacceptable, Armitage? That I should…care for you?” 

Hux stilled completely. 

A thirty-wheeler went by on the road outside.

Hux blinked. Shook his head.

Ren did not withdraw his hand. 

A bearish man with grafted plates on his skull came down the stairs. He lumbered past, headed for the door. 

“You adore me, but you don’t know me, Ren.”

“I do.”

“No.” Hux pulled at his lower lip. The shiny colour on some of his nails had scraped away, leaving the natural pink beneath showing through; like fresh skin beneath old and peeling scar tissue. “You don’t. You think my sins are to be pitied; you think they require a cure, and that it is to hold, and be held. Love, and be loved.”

“Please…”

“I don’t do this to _punish_ myself. I do it because when I choose, I like to be fucked hard by strangers with dirty hands. When I choose, I like to be hit. Hurt. Called foul, pretty names.”

Hux stood, scuffing back his chair. 

“I will not trouble you to understand. There are times when I do not myself. But tell me that you can _accept_ this about me, and still love me, and I will agree that you know me, enough to care for me.”

Ren let Hux pick up his bag and coat. 

He flexed his fingers out of the fists they’d formed, and watched through the wire windowguard as Hux caught up to the big, armoured man. Hux spoke to him, standing a certain way in his shorts, while the licking, tail-end of a hurricane made a brassy halo of his hair. 

The man pointed back at the cantina, and showed his teeth.

Hux shook his head. Laughed.

The weather whipped away their words, but Ren flushed anyway, as if struck. 

And Hux climbed up into the passenger side of the transporter rig, its crushed ore glittering as it pulled away.

And Hux didn’t look back at all.


	2. Engine

Hux drank his way across the plain, letting himself be used. 

Ren followed, from bar to bar, watching Hux sit on their laps, watching Hux get pawed about and handed around, led into motel rooms and alleyways and truck cabins. 

Ren huddled outside, in the blustery lea of his speeder. He wore his mask all of the time. 

Hux did not acknowledge that he was there.

Then one day, crimson lightning welted the sky. The raindrops hissed, and Ren was forced inside. 

The accommodation was part of an ancient hull, rust riveted over rust; Ren could hear Hux clearly through the partitioning, flattering and goading the man he’d just picked up in the tavern opposite.

After a while, the metal wall shook, as something struck it from Hux’s side.

Ren sat up and breathed with his belly. He started to examine his hood and gloves. Greenish, abrasive dust sifted from the seams and fell onto the floorboards. 

The wall trembled again. And again. 

Ren kept staring down. His cloak and cowl were near threadbare in places, despite the resilience of the cloth. The atmosphere here was hungry, difficult; it wore you through, in the end. 

The sounds grew coarser, louder. Grunts and cruelties, matched and married with throaty cries that peaked and fell away. 

Pleasure, not performance. 

Grit gouged against the roof, the hail heavy with ore. Obliterating permanency, and hope. 

And Ren sat and listened and wondered how much longer his defences would last. 

They got near to the end of the road. After that there was only the vast hole of the mine itself.

“Engine trouble?” Hux hesitated, then stopped, beneath the tattered awning. He had been on his way back from pissing against the mud wall. 

They hadn’t spoken since the first cantina.

Ren didn’t answer now; he had eviscerated the speeder as well as he could, but the cylinders would clog again upon ignition. 

“There must be someone capable of repairs around here.” Hux coughed; his voice was rough. “In the morning, perhaps…”

“_Our_ trip ends here.” Ren looked up from the dirt. He was tired. “Once I fix this, I’m leaving.”

Hux was scrubbed clean. He looked tired too. His long shirt fluttered open as he used both hands to light a cigarette. He was naked beneath it. 

Ren ducked his head and went back to what he was doing. 

Hux just stood there for a moment, then he nodded and turned to go back inside the shack.

“I have oil. In here.”

Ren hunched further in on himself. “Of course you do.”

The cigarette sparked angrily as Hux threw it down, unsmoked. “For the cylinders. They’ll fire if you half-fill them. An old army trick.”

Ren sucked where he’d cut his knuckles on the housing. 

Hux had turned. He was watching. “And…I have food.” 

Ren collected up the metal tubes and followed Hux into the room.

There was dried fruit. Dried meat. 

Hux picked up a belt from where it was knotted on a hook and tied it around his waist. 

Ren thought about what it had been used for up until then. 

He undressed down to his underthings. It had never mattered before.

Once he started on the strips of tendon, Hux tucked in beside him immediately. They ate silently together, thigh to thigh, on the mattress. Hux had a flagon of watered-down wine. They drank it. Ren got hard and his chest got tight so he threw back the blanket and went over to the wall and began blocking up the worst of the draughts with small pieces of rubble. The room grew darker and hotter as he worked. 

“No lecture, before you fly away?” Hux asked, licking his fingertips.

Ren fell to his knees and set the cylinders upright upon a rag.

“Had enough, then?”

“The haulers say it’s the worst solar current in years.” Ren spread his legs because the friction of the fabric was too much. “Did you even bring a breather?”

“Of course, Ren.” Hux curled over on his side. “And I’m glad you’ve seen sense.” He ran a hand down one hip and along to his knee and back up; a fluttering wing of white. Ren pushed his nails into his palms. “I told you I’m not…”

“Can I have some?”

“What?”

“Can you get me the oil?” Ren almost shouted. 

“Alright. If you can’t even be civil…” As Hux rose, pale and slim and bruised, Ren reached up and pulled him over, down, close. 

Hux wrapped his ankles around Ren. He slotted perfectly onto Ren’s lap. His skin was so smooth, as the shirt slipped apart.

Ren ran his thumb from one corner of Hux’s mouth to the other. He was panting. Then he rubbed his tongue there and Hux tasted of wine and salt. A slit of savoury and sticky-sweet. Hux sucked Ren in. The edges of his teeth were sharp.

“More.” Hux breathed out into Ren, quickly alight. He looked at Ren as if he had never seen him before. “Shall I show you what I like?”

Ren took Hux by the waist and thrust himself up brutally against Hux’s heat. 

“Yes.” Hux made noises. Arched his back, grinding and letting his head roll.

Ren inhaled the smell of sex; Hux was sweating and beading, damp all over. “Yes. Harder, Ren. Shall I show you?”

Ren leaned his weight forward. Hux was underneath, now. It would be easy to bite him. Fuck him. Ren pushed again. His cock rammed blindly against Hux’s body. He suffocated Hux with kisses. 

But then he shook his head.

“No.” Ren told Hux, pulling off and backing away. “Let me show you.”


	3. Lost

Ren teases Hux out, like silk, across the mattress.

Hux is aroused, but wary; he lets Ren, absorbed, transported, take hold of his foot and rub his instep and arch with deliberate, spiralling touches of pressure. Ren traces around the heel and all the way up the lean swell of calf, before Hux stops him.

“Save your sanctimonious efforts.” He blinks, angrily, in the half-light, leaning up. “I am in no need of such clumsy _reconditioning_…”

Ren simply kisses behind one knee, pressing his face into the hollow there. “Didn’t you warn me that you have a rare palate for pleasure?” He laps lightly at the inside of Hux’s thighs. “Prove it.”

Hux lies all the way back down. 

“Remember, it is not you who is weak, here.” Ren finds Hux’s hand and puts it in his own damp tangle of hair. Hux grips spitefully, but Ren just hisses the pain out. “It is in your gift to give me this, even if it is only one time between us.”

“It will make no difference.”

“Then indulge me,” Ren shrugs, working his course, wet-hot then cooling, away from where Hux is defiantly half-hard, up to the jut of his hip.

He grazes his teeth along the crest of bone. 

Underneath the softness, there is raw, unyielding hunger.

“The scent of you.” Ren murmurs, inhaling. “I can’t stand it when we’re there, with all the other officers…I want to unbutton that stiff uniform that clings to you. Taste your sweat and your skin…” 

He bites. Hux grunts. Ren does it again. “I could eat you alive.” 

He meanders his mouth across Hux’s belly, all the way up to where his dog tags lie. 

“That is the problem with passion.” Hux has shadows under his eyes. Ren crouches like some fierce animal over him, made docile only through desire. “It consumes itself, in the end.”

“You would feed me forever,” Ren argues, then meets Hux’s downturned mouth with his own, offering up long, deep kisses that dive and chase and multiply the sensation of one body grinding, very gently, against another.

Ren moves from the jaw to the throat to the shoulder. He bites harder now. Sucks darker marks that neither avoid nor seek to cover the bruises Hux carries from those other men.

He is feverish. He shivers often. 

Until Hux does too.

“Don’t hold it back,” Hux tells him, his body burning, the blushes spreading and scorching. “The violence of it.”

“But I want to.” Ren answers, bowing to Hux’s breast. “I like it. Making us both hurt from the waiting alone. I feel like I’ve been waiting to love you my whole life.” 

Hux moans at that, as Ren spits and flicks and pinches delicately, leaving Hux’s nipples stiffened and sensitive. 

“Get on with it then.” He sees Ren’s erection, thick and untouched, between them. “I could do better myself.”

“Please do so,” Ren sits back, flushed red, unhurried. “I’ll more than gladly watch.”

Hux breathes out. Frowns. 

“At least give me something,” he snaps, to kill the stalemate. “Or I’ll find someone who will.”

Ren laughs, softly. Rests his fingers on Hux’s bottom lip, then slides two inside.

Hux drowns them with his tongue. 

They look at each other.

“Here?” Ren circles Hux with his own, wine-tart saliva.

“Yes.” Hux moves in relief; little thrusts, little sounds.

Ren fucks him purposefully, yet carefully, with his long, searching fingers. His pace is maddening. 

Hux’s body is such a scalding, stretching thing, around him; tight, and tender, and responsive.

Ren stops to feather and taunt, again and again, barely there, then very much there, until he is rewarded with Hux’s capitulation; the General sprawls now, slippery and open and starting to writhe without thought or restraint.

“That is…too good,” he mutters, to the walls. To the ceiling, where the beams creak in the wind.

Ren is unmoved by the flattery; he remains unrushed. 

He soothes Hux’s tense muscles, kisses him on the mouth, on the chest, licks his cock, sucking under and over the head until Hux is tearing at his own hair instead of Ren’s.

“Damn you.” 

“Yes.” Ren manhandles Hux until he can get his tongue in alongside his fingers. 

Hux curses the red sky and the green, gritty earth. 

“It won’t change who I am,” he tells Ren, breathlessly. “This…gentleness.”

He raises his legs higher, all the same. 

“No,” Ren agrees. “It would be pointless to try, wouldn’t it?”

He kisses Hux’s hole as he did his mouth before; long and deep and diving and chasing, chafing his own prick against anything he can, almost as an afterthought. 

His neck aches. 

Hux makes no attempt to touch his own hardness. 

He abides by the rules they seem to have set.

And Ren fucks him with his thumbs and his tongue, using his fingers, his teeth, his very breath itself until Hux is shuddering and coming and noisy and mindless with the waves and peaks of it. 

It is furious. It takes a long time. Hux cannot seem to stop. Ren abandons his own release for the duty of guiding Hux through such loss of control, and he uses each cry and clutch as a compass to drive him on, until Hux is begging and sobbing for it all to end.

In his rapture, Hux kicks over the watered wine.

It soaks into the dust.

They have nothing left to drink.

Ren sits up and sighs, and scratches his nose, and wipes his chin and hands on Hux’s discarded robe. 

In the ugliest part of the ugliest planet, he has never seen a lovelier sight than Hux as he is in that moment, afterwards.

Hair soaked, sweated out and sticky as all hells with spit and come. 

Whatever happens, _that_ is his. 

Whatever happens, _this_ is theirs. 

Ren lies down next to Hux, and Hux holds him, awkwardly, as if he doesn’t know how.

“_Love_.” Hux says, faintly, finally. “Could it stand my…other appetites?”

“How should I know, Armitage? I have even less experience than you.”

Ren feels Hux nod, thoughtfully. He explores Ren's ribs with his palm. 

“Yet you looked for me, when I ran,” Hux persists. “Knowing what you would find.”

Ren turns over to go to sleep, pulling Hux’s arms around him. 

In the morning, they have repairs to make. It seems likely that these will not be the last. 

Hux's fingers lace together with his own.

“I will always look to find you," Ren says, smiling shyly into the blood-dark night. "Because without you, it would be me who was lost.”


End file.
